


No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

by IneffableTrajectory



Category: Broadchurch
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Arguing, Car Accidents, Child Abuse, Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:21:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23195443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IneffableTrajectory/pseuds/IneffableTrajectory
Summary: Please pay attention to the tags and go no further if plate throwing arguments and shouting are a trigger for you.It ends happy though, I promise.<3
Relationships: Paul Coates & Alec Hardy, Paul Coates/Alec Hardy
Comments: 8
Kudos: 32





	No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

"DAMMIT, I DON'T BLOODY KNOW WHAT ELSE TO SAY!!!!" Alec shouted, his voice wobbling with pent up anger and frustration.

"YOU NEVER *FUCKING DO*, DO YOU?!? NOOO, BECAUSE YOU'RE ALEC *SHIT FACE* HARDY, THE MAN WITH *NO* FUCKING EMOTIONS!" Paul spat back, his own voice ragged and wavering.

Alec flinched and tried to hide it, but it was too late, Paul had seen it. He saw and he latched on to it, sensing the weakness and capitalizing on it. In an instant he had crowded into his space and to his credit Alec tried, oh did he try, to stand his ground. He planted his feet and squared his shoulders like they trained him to do at the Academy, but none of his de-escalation courses had told him what to do when it wasn't a stranger's angry face crowding into his space. What was the protocol for when it was your *own* spouse that was not in control of their senses and was trying their damndest to intimidate and possibly harm you?

'Would he, though? Really?' Hardy thought to himself as Paul's chest nearly bumped against his own, eyes wild, spit gathering at the corners of his mouth. As he drew breath to continue his tirade, Alec slowly reached up, put his hands flat against Paul's chest, looked into those wild eyes he loved so much and simply said "Stop. Please." in a tone that was firm and gentle, but serious in a way that caught Paul off guard. And because he was caught off guard, his rage faltered just enough to launch his rational brain back into reality. Suddenly, as his eyes cleared and met Hardy's and as he came back to himself, he began to assess the situation; Alec was shaking like a leaf, backed all the way into the corner of their small kitchen and the evening's dishes lay shattered on the floor behind them. The too-rapid rise and fall of Alec's chest betrayed his calm exterior as he continued to stare at Paul, the whites of his eyes clearly visible around golden amber, hands now held aloft between them in the universal sign for "I surrender, I mean you no harm." 'This is all my fault', Paul thought to himself as he remembered sweeping the dishes off the table in a fit of anger. Anger at what, though?

'Oh.' He remembered as he felt his face heat up with shame. 

That. 

They had been talking about whether or not to attend a "Marriage Maintenance" counseling group that the spouse of someone at the station was going to be hosting. Alec had been the one to bring it up, well aware of how his own failings had helped hasten the demise of his first marriage, and he was damned if he was going to let it happen again. It was to be hosted at the church though, not because it was religious in nature, but because it was a good common meeting ground and didn't require an enormous deposit to book for several consecutive weeks. It was also going to be led by a man in a similar relationship dynamic to their own, a Pansexual man married to a Bisexual man, so it felt like more common ground for them. Paul appreciated the idea, but was incredibly uncomfortable at the thought of ever stepping foot into another church so long as he continued to draw breath. He was so put off by the idea that they'd gotten married in Ellie's back garden, for heavens sake! And Alec knew all this, so why would he be so disrespectful of Paul's feelings that he would even consider it?

What had started as a conversation had turned into a minor argument and then had spiraled into a wholesale fight when Alec sighed heavily and got up to do the dishes. Paul huffed and told him to "fucking sit back down and quit trying to deflect and change the subject!" which had only made Alec huffier, which had only made Paul angrier, so he had stood up and in a fit of rage had swept it all off onto the floor and shouted "THERE, NOW THERE'S NO FUCKING DISHES TO DO, NOW SIT. BACK. DOWN!". Alec had gaped at him for a moment, wide eyed and furious, before tipping his chin and leveing his gaze at Paul in a show of defiance that Paul could only call childish. "No." he replied calmly. "No, I don't think I will. Thanks to you and your *temper tantrum*, now I have to sweep the shards off the floor instead of just washing whole dishes. Hope you're happier now, though..." he trailed off as he turned around the rest of the way and stalked hautily towards the pantry to retrieve the broom and dustpan. 

Red. That's all Paul saw as Alec turned around and walked away with a snort and a raised eye brow. "WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK," Paul shouted at his back as he walked away, "IS THE ACTUAL. FUCKING. MATTER WITH YOU, YOU FUCKING KNOB??" Paul shouted angrily. He could feel his heart pounding and his fists clenching, but he was too far gone. There was no stopping now. He made it around his side of the table and one and a half long steps towards Alec before the other man wheeled around and made to close the distance between them, only to stop halfway to him. 

"What the actual fuck is the matter with *me*??" He screeched incredulously, voice raising with his obvious indignation. "YOU'RE THE ONE YELLING AT ME FOR SUGGESTING THAT WE ATTEND A BLOODY MARRIAGE COUNSELING COURSE!" Paul heard the hurt in Alec's voice and was embarrassed. But because he was already angry, the embarrassment only stoked the fire and he lashed out in self-defence. It was made even worse when he realized Alec was the last person on earth he would ever have to defend himself from, but still, he continued to scream and rage and stalk towards Alec. To do what, he didn't know. He could only hear the distant sound of a mad man raving. Alec's raised voice cut through Paul's hazy rage like a hot knife through butter.

"DAMMIT, I DON'T BLOODY KNOW WHAT ELSE TO SAY!!!!" Alec shouted, his voice wobbling with anger and frustration.

"YOU NEVER *FUCKING DO*, DO YOU?!? NOOO, BECAUSE YOU'RE ALEC *SHIT FACE* HARDY, THE MAN WITH *NO* FUCKING EMOTIONS!" Paul spat back, his own voice ragged and wavering. He stepped in the rest of the way, squared his shoulders and raised himself to his full height in an attempt to intimidate Alec into surrender.

Suddenly, he felt Alec's hands on his chest, grounding him. He heard his voice as clearly as if it were his own. "Stop. Please." is all he said, and Paul knew by his tone that he was serious. 

Paul realized with a start as he looked into Alec's wide eyes that he himself was his father, through and through. He had threatened his sweet, gentle Cariad with physical violence and had hardly even remembered it. He certainly didn't catch it or stop himself in the moment. He realized now what he saw as anger and defiance in Alec's actions was actually blind terror. A fight or flight response triggered by his actions. He saw Alec's lip quiver and his eyes glaze over with unshed tears and his heart shattered. He launched himself at his husband but as an act of surrender, not of vengeance, encircling him in his arms and clinging shakily to him. But Alec, not knowing the man's intentions, still flinched, closed his eyes and pushed against Paul's chest with a whimpered 'no, please,' before he realized he wasn't going to harm him. Where Paul's heart had shattered before, it was ground to powder now at the feel of his husband recoiling away from him in terror.

He opened his mouth to speak, to apologize, to beg forgiveness but he couldn't draw enough breath to say anything before he was choking out a sob against Alec's shoulder. Alec stood frozen, too shaken and hurt and in need of comfort himself to even be able to offer any to Paul. 'How do I always manage to break things?' Alec thought to himself as the first hot tear made it's way down his face. He thought back to the first time his father had struck him out of anger. He was ten years old and he'd been careless as he was leaving for school one morning (it was always his fault). When he'd turned in the hall to call out his goodbyes to his mother, he'd knocked a lamp off a table and it had shattered into a million pieces. He bent to pick up the pieces and didn't even realize his father was still home until he was being hoisted off the ground by his hair, the weight of his backpack biting heavily into his thin, narrow shoulders.

His father had smelled of whiskey that morning, and although that was no surprise, the unrelenting fists across his face and in his hair and around his too small arms was. Grabbing and striking and splitting. It felt like it would never stop. By the time his mother had been able to call the man off, Alec was dazed and bloody, too frightened to even cry out, his body acting on instinct alone as he raised his hands in some sort of primitive gesture of surrender. Anything to keep from being attacked again. 

His mother had carried his bloodied self up the stairs and to his room with all of the tenderness her damaged soul could muster. She laid him gently in his bed and brushed his fringe back from his forehead. It was alredy starting to mat, sticky with the hot, fresh blood that was trickling from Alec's scalp. She retrieved a flannel and a small first aid kit and set to work patching up his physical wounds. She knew firsthand though that even once the cuts closed and the bruises faded, the damage done to his budding self would never heal completely. It would only scar, jagged and messy and easily opened in some places. 

She sighed heavily as she assessed the damage done to his lovely aquiline nose, knowing even if it was set properly by a doctor, it would always curve off to the side. She continued her gentle ministrations and began to sing him his favorite Gaelic lullaby, praying as she went that this would not dampen his vigor for life, that he would still find a way to be her cheeky, considerate, helpful, brave, adventurous baby boy. That he wouldn't grow up too quickly, or learn not to trust people. She knew her prayers fell on deaf ears though; After all, God had not yet delivered her from her own forty-year journey in the desert. He'd not spared his own son from suffering, why should he spare hers?

She wept as he slept.

This routine of theirs carried on for 8 more years, up until the night before he left for Uni.

His mother had then died, he'd graduated and immediately gone into the Academy and had never so much as glanced behind him at where he'd come from. The only thing he took with him was the burning desire to protect the most vulnerable in the community with every fibre of his being.

He realized with a start, as he snapped back to the present, that he was somehow on the ground. He could feel the floor shaking underneath him; 'Oh. No.' he thought distantly, 'that's just me, sobbing.' And oh was he ever. His face was contorted, eyes squeezed shut as if trying to will the liquid not to escape his face, gasping for breath between each wracking shudder. His chest hurt, but not in a way that signaled an impending attack. No, this was much deeper, and much much worse in his mind. He was shaking and sobbing because he was *afraid*. Afraid of Paul, afriad of being hurt, afraid of being hurt by Paul. And what had he even done but suggest they invest in their fledgling marriage? Was this Paul's way of saying he didn't think it was worth investing in, that Alec had already done something to irrevocably break Paul's trust in their union?

He sobbed harder at the thought, then shot off the floor when he felt Paul's haand run through his hair and tug. He staggered on heartsick legs for a moment before doubling over and wretching on the floor in front of him. His eyes darted around the room, terror evident across his face as he looked for an escape route, anywhere, any way he could leave. He had to get out, to go, to leave. Because if he left first, Paul couldn't leave *him*. He stumbled out the back door and through their small garden, pushed open the gate and started half waking half running down the path, not caring at all that it was below freezing and raining. He was barefoot and clad only in jeans and a loose fitting light wool jumper. He didn't even know where he was going or what he'd do when he got there, his mind just kept screaming "gogogodonteverstopjustgogogo".

He stopped to catch his breath and distantly registered car headlights and a sound like a horn. Then tires screeching, trying to gain purchase on slick asphalt. "Now I've gone and done it." He thought. And just as he closed his eyes and accepted the inevitable, he heard screaming in the distance. He braced for impact and prayed to the gods that Paul wouldn't be close enough to see the end result, but he knew better, he'd seen enough auto/pedestrian incidents. The auto nearly always held the upper hand.

The only impact that came though was Paul grabbing him from behind and yanking him bodily onto the sidewalk. The car had somehow found traction at the last second and had stopped mere inches from Alec. Alec looked dumbly from the car, then to Paul, then back to the car, then back to Paul again. Paul was white as a sheet, and Alec couldn't tell if it was adrenaline induced sweat, or rain that was trickling down Paul's face. He could definitely see the tears though.

As the driver of the car drove off waving his apologies (which, Alec noted, was incredibly English of him, considering he's the one that staggered out into the street and therefore into oncoming traffic) Alec turned the rest of the way around to properly cling to Paul "Imsosorry", Alec breathed all at once as the realization of what had very nearly happened hit him all at once. "I'm so sorry, it was just an argument, I wasnae tryna off maself, I promise. I just....I just panicked and I ran and I couldnae see. I wasnae payin attention....Please, forgive me darling. We won't go to the stupid thing and I'll make you your favorite dinner for the next six months, just please don't be angry with me, please don't leave me, I'm sorry, whatever I did it won't happen again, please, Mo Leannan, please, I'm sorry."

Alec's frantic pleading caught Paul so off guard that he could barely even process what was being said. Forgive him? For what? He knew he wasn't trying to intentionally hurt himself, or worse. And why did Alec think he was going to leave him? "Hey, shhh, come back, yeah? To the present, stay with me, ok?". He could feel Alec shaking in his arms and knew it had to be part nerves and part cold. He hadn't noticed in the heat of the argument and resulting chaos, but he saw now that Alec was only half dressed and positively soaked to the bone. His slender feet were bright white, toenails starting to blue from lack of circulation and his hands were fairing no better against the onslaught of freezing rain. 

"Shh, c'mon, let's get you home and dry and warm, we'll talk more once I've got you fixed up." They walked the few hundred yards back to the house in a heavy, contemplative silence, neither man quite knowing what to say to the other. As they reached the still open back door, Paul paused, like always, and gestured for Alec to go in ahead of him. He dutifully acquiesced and went in first, making a beeline for the bathroom. Before Paul could make it in behind him though, he'd locked the door and turned on the shower as hot as it would go. He bit his lip as he placed his hands on the sink, feeling hot tears building behind his eyelids as he heard Paul rattle the handle. God, how many times had he done this before? Hidden in the bathroom, crying and watching the door handle rattle, begging it to hold...

"Darling," Paul said gently from the other side of the door. "You don't have to talk, but I would love it if you listened. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I scared you, and that I scared you on purpose. I'm sorry I made you feel guilty about the counseling sessions. Unironically, I see now the merit in attending," he said with a hollow, reedy laugh. That earned him the door being unlocked, though not opened. He kept on. "I'm sorry for making you feel like you'd done something wrong, like I was going to leave you for some reason. I would never. And please, please forgive me for using your past against you. I'm sorry I called you shit face. I was angry. I was being a shit face, not you. Never you." he said with a weak half-smile.

He heard a sniffle as the door cracked slightly and steam rolled out into the hallway. "Ach, c'mere, you..". Alec, still clad in his cold wet clothes, pulled an equally cold and wet Paul into his arms. He placed a kiss on his crown and let out a shaky breath. "I forgive you." He said into his damp hair. "And I forgive you." Paul replied, gently squeezing his husband's slim frame. "We'll talk more, but what's say we go ahead and warm up in the shower, then head to bed, yeah?" Alec asked in a voice that was still much too small for Paul's liking. "Yeah, absoloutely." He said, giving Alec another squeeze and then placing a kiss on his chilled neck. They stripped out of their wet clothes without much eye contact, something still feeling awkward and tenuous between them even as they stood naked in the close confines. Alec reached for Paul's hand, kissed his knuckles then gave him a wink and a half a smile before dragging him into the shower behind him. They took their time, holding each other and trading gentle kisses here and there. They washed each other's hair and bodies, both both getting a little misty eyed at the symbol of servitude it was, and by the time they had rinsed and dried and climbed into bed, they were both exhausted to the core of their beings.

Alec curled up silently against Paul's side and threw an arm and a leg over him, as usual. Paul rearranged to slide his arm under Alec's neck and he turned slightly to hold him even closer to him. He reached down to pull the blankets over them, taking special care to tuck Alec's weighted throw over him, knowing tonight would most likely bring fitful, if any, sleep to Alec. "Thanks," he murmured against Paul's chest. "Welcome." Paul replied, his breath ghosting through his husband's shaggy hair.

"I love you. Always"

"I love you, too. Forever."

And though they still had much to discuss and work though, the completion of their nightly routine, this act that was just theirs, made them both feel safe enough to drift off to sleep in the other's arms. 

And when Alec shifted and whined in his sleep several hours later, Paul was there, already awake but held securely in place, ready to comfort his husband and hold him through the worst of it.

And when Alec awoke the next morning to the sight of his awake but very exhausted husband, he made him breakfast in bed, knowing he'd stayed up all night to help him through his nightmare. He cleared the dishes, tucked him in and read to him until he was asleep. 

Yes, there was much to talk about, but today? 

Today they would rest, and heal and recover.

Together.

*Fin*


End file.
